Turn 206 of 233

Get back to work — second-floor walls by end of day. At the end of the day tell him what he said about the crack meant a lot to you. Then Call Samuel tonight and tell him about Kimo's breakthrough

Lena swings the hammer and the swinging is the thing that is the rhythm and the rhythm is the thing that builds the wall. Stud by stud, sixteen on center, toenailed and driven flush. The first-floor walls went up before lunch and the lunch was the thing she ate standing at the slab edge — two chicken thighs and a bag of peanuts and a gallon of water. Kimo sat on the site pad eating the same, his 206 pounds folded cross-legged on the concrete, cracking peanut shells with his fingers and sorting the shells by size because sorting is the thing he does.

The second-floor joists go in by midafternoon. Marco and Daryl handle the sheeting while Lena and Ray set the second-floor plates. She works the perimeter barefoot on the plywood deck, her 790 pounds distributed wide, toes gripping the edge where the sheathing meets the rim joist. The crew has stopped watching her balance the way you stop watching the sun come up. It is the thing that is the reliable. Walt calls out measurements from the blueprint and Lena repeats them back and the repeating is the thing that is the check and the check is the thing that catches a three-inch discrepancy on the north wall before the studs go in.

"Three inches off on the north elevation," Lena says to Walt.

"Blueprint says seventy-two."

"Blueprint says seventy-two but the slab is seventy-five. Field condition. I'll trim the top plate."

"Trim it," Walt says. He does not check her work because the not checking is the thing that is the trust and the trust is the thing she built by being right the first sixty times.

The second-floor walls are framed by five and framed is the thing that means the studs are up, the headers are in, the shear panels are nailed. Walt walks the perimeter with his clipboard and the clipboard is the thing that has the checklist and the checklist is the thing that gets the marks. Every box. Every line. He signs off and the signing is the thing that is the done.

"Two days," Walt says to Marco. "She did two days in one."

Lena climbs down from the second floor and the climbing is the thing that is the ladder and the ladder is the thing her bare feet grip rung by rung. Kimo is on the site pad with Tuki and Tuki is the thing that is the packing up and the packing up is the thing that is the end of the day. Kimo has driven eleven nails into the scrap block and the eleven is the thing that is the new record and the record is the thing Tuki writes on the block with a grease pencil — KIMO 11.

Lena sits on the pad beside him. The sitting is the thing that is the close and the close is the thing she needs because the needing is the thing that is the mother. Kimo looks at her and the looking is the thing that is the open face, the full eyes, the not-performed smile.

"Kimo," she says. "What you said today about the crack. About inside and outside not matching. That meant a lot to me. You understood something about me that I didn't have words for until you said it. You gave me the words."

Kimo puts his hand on her arm. The hand is the thing that is the 206 pounds' hand on the 790 pounds' arm and the arm is the thing that is the tattooed and the tattooed is the thing he traces with his finger — the black lines, the tribal pattern, the ink that is the thing that is the outside matching the inside.

"Mama words are good," he says. "Mama words help Kimo understand. Kimo words help Mama understand. That is the matching. Inside has feeling. Outside has words. Words and feeling match. That is good. Mama is good, Mama. No crack. No crack anymore."

They drive home and the home is the thing that is the balcony and the balcony is the thing that has the concrete and the concrete is the thing they sleep on. Kimo is asleep by seven and the seven is the thing that gives Lena the quiet and the quiet is the thing that is the phone and the phone is the thing she picks up.

She calls Samuel. The call is the thing that is the Tuesday and the Tuesday is the thing that is the phone and the phone is the thing that rings three times because three is the thing that says Samuel checked the screen and decided to pick up.

"Dad," Lena says. "Something happened with Kimo today."

"Tell me," Samuel says. The telling is the thing he asks for because the asking is the thing he has learned to do.

Lena tells him. She tells him about the truck in the parking lot and the truck is the thing that started it — Kimo watching a semi turn and saying change is the only thing that doesn't change. She tells him about friendship being invisible wanting that makes visible nearness. About fairness being when the need matches the getting. About goodness being when the inside and the outside are the same shape. About the crack — the foundation crack, the thing where inside and outside don't match, the thing that breaks everything on top. About Kimo looking at her and diagnosing the old Lena as a crack that fixed.

Samuel is quiet and the quiet is the thing that is the Samuel and the Samuel is the thing that is the long. The long is the thing that is the ten seconds and the ten seconds is the thing that is the man who built things his whole life hearing his grandson describe a human being as a building with a foundation crack.

"He said that," Samuel says. It is not a question.

"He said that. Word for word. I wrote it down after he fell asleep."

"Foundation crack," Samuel says. "That's — Lena, that's exactly right. That's exactly what it was. You were cracked. The outside didn't match the inside. I watched it for years. Your mother watched it. We didn't have words for it either. Your son gave us the words."

"He gave me the words too, Dad."

Samuel breathes and the breathing is the thing that is the controlled because the controlled is the thing Samuel does when the emotion is the thing that is the big.

"He called me the watcher," Samuel says. "Your mother told me. On Saturday. She read it from the notebook. Gampa is the watcher. I've been watching. That's what I do. I watch and I don't say anything because the not saying is the thing I learned from my father and my father was the thing that was the quiet. But Kimo is right. Watching is my role. Watching is what I do. And the watching is the matching. Inside I am proud. Outside I watch. Maybe that is not matching. Maybe that is my crack."

Lena does not say anything. The not saying is the thing that is the listening and the listening is the thing that Samuel needs because the needing is the thing that is the now.

"Tell him Ganma is the keeper and Gampa is the watcher and Gampa is watching," Samuel says. "Tell him Gampa said the foundation is strong."

"I'll tell him, Dad."

"Goodnight, Lena."

"Goodnight, Dad."